Deborah Chenault Green

At the time of the 1967 Riot, I lived on 12th Street, along with my family. During the summers I would visit my aunt and uncle's house, who lived on Hazelwood and 14th, just two blocks from the epicenter of the riot. The night of [July] the 23rd I was there, helping my aunt prepare for my mom's birthday party, which was being held there on the 24th. That night it was so hot that me and one of my cousins were asleep on the porch. Early that morning we were awakened by sirens. When we looked up in the sky, we saw red. Frightened, we ran into the house where my aunt and uncle were. They were asleep so we woke them up. Everyone was accounted for except my older female cousin, Tessie. who had fallen in with the wrong crowd and had started to be a problem to them. My uncle took off in the car to find her and eventually did. The next day my mom came and got me and took me home, to 12th Street. It was an extremely scary time for us. Because we lived on the second floor of a storefront, we were able to look down on the tanks that invaded our neighborhood. The sound was deafening. The report of snipers and National Guardsmen entering people's houses kept everyone on edge. This was when we learned to hit the floor when we heard gunfire; something that is now a common practice when you live in the inner city. Below you will find three poems from a book I published In 2008, which included vivid accounts of 12th Street, before during and after the 1967 riots. <br /><br />12TH STREET (PRE '67) <br /><br />Hopscotch, tag, hide and go-get-it<br /> Baseball in the alley, nowhere to hit it <br />Boys wearin' holsters and guns <br />Learning to shoot <br />Riding the Popsicle bikes <br />Pockets full of loot <br />Hot days, steamy nights <br />Mattress on the porch, because it feels right <br />Did you hear James was stabbed? <br />Almost pierced his heart<br /> Down by Eli Wilson's cleaners <br />They say by crazy Mark <br />Over some girl, later seen with Flip <br />Hot dogs, Kool-aid, Potato Chips <br />Block parties, swingin', dancin' in the streets <br />To "My Girl," "Heatwave" <br />Just boppin' to the beat <br />"We interrupt your regular programming <br />To bring you this important announcement,<br /> PRESIDENT KENNEDY HAS BEEN SHOT AND KILLED..."<br /> Penny candy, Dot & Etta's <br />Ms. Harrison's Beauty Shop<br /> Henry's Pig Feet in a jar <br />Playin' tag, Hot Tamale Man <br />Catch me if you can <br />Music heard all night long from the Calument Bar <br />The innocence and beauty of 12th Street <br />Before the Riot (Pre '67) <br />Before the community died <br /><br />THE SKIES WERE RED <br /><br />We were just kids in the summer of '67 <br />Sounded like 67 tanks, equipped with 67 guns <br />Killing 67 niggas just for fun<br /> Every 67 minutes waking to the sound of gunfire<br /> From snipers and return fire from tanks <br />Intruding our streets, our homes, our space <br />"Nigga, why you on the street? <br />You know curfew's at six o'clock" <br />We here the next day on the block <br />Johnny, Billy and Ray Ray got arrested at 6:01 <br />Oh yeah, curfew had just begun<br /> As night descends, the fires ascend<br /> No room for slumber, tanks sound like thunder <br />Eyes search for grey sky, red is all I find <br />Sort of looks like hell burning in the Heavens <br />I can hardly tell, I'm barely twelve <br />Did you hear about Tonia? Four years old <br />Sitting in her room, where a bullet sealed her doom <br />Just tryin' to dodge the insane <br />Now she's dead, but who's to blame? <br />July 23rd was the day <br />1967 the year <br />12th Street the place<br /> Where the community died <br /><br />I COULD ONLY MUSTER A STARE<br /><br /> Existing on 12th Street, '67 riot still fresh memory <br />Up all night throwing shoes at the mice <br />Coming up from the downstairs storefront<br /> Church on one side, old papers stored on the other <br />Up "bright eyed and bushy tailed"<br />Eat a bowl of oatmeal, out the door<br /> Down the war torn streets, constant reminder of '67 riot Some buildings still part charred from fires <br />Some boarded up from looting and vandalism <br />Of to school in the frigid cold<br /> Kind of cold leave your eyeballs froze<br /> Cold, bone chillin' cold <br />Get to school, put coat in locker, go to class <br />Try to stay alert and aware <br />But could only muster a stare